Until Amortentia Holds No Longer
by AmeStrom
Summary: Merope thinks about her past and of her love. The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Round 11


Disclaimer: The Harry potter series belongs to J. K. Rowling. The only profit I gain from this story is the enjoyment and experience of writing it.a

Written for the The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Round 11

Main Prompt: Song Lyrics- WASPS: Take A Chance On Me - ABBA

CHASER 2 lyrics picked: Listen to some music, maybe just talking, get to know you better

Additional Prompt:

6\. (word) blink

12\. (quote) 'Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose' - Lyndon B. Johnson

13\. (opening sentence) 'Everything was going wrong.

Until Amortentia Holds No Longer

Everything was going wrong. Her potions ingredients were strewed over the table as she let out a shriek of frustration. _"It shouldn't be like this!"_ she thought angrily, tossing a string of wolf claws to the side. _'There has got to be a better potion! Amortentia just isn't working anymore.'_

She huffed and leaned against the table, palms flat against the top. The wood was cool against her hot and sweaty palms. She could hear movement upstairs as she breathed heavily. She was worried, scared even, that Tom's love would end.

If only he wasn't developing an immunity to the potion, then everything would be alright. However, as the days passed so did his love. He no longer sought her out every waking hour. He also no longer adored her to the point where his thoughts didn't even linger on any other.

She sighed as she looked across the table; her cauldron was on its side and powder was scattered, herbs were thrown together due to her agitation. She had thought that if the potion could be made even stronger it would continue to work. But she wasn't having the success she wished.

Exhausted from the afternoon's brewing, she had a strong desire to go seek out her love. Pushing away from the table she moved up the stairs and into the hall. As she walked down the hallway, she trailed her hand along the smooth papered wall. She loved this house, newly built and in the city. It was so different from her father's house. The flowery wall paper and photographs of them on their wedding day brightened the place up.

Brushing a few strands of hair out of her face she stepped into the sitting room and a smile lit up her features as she saw Tom. He was sitting by the window, head bowed over a book. She strolled over to the wireless that was on a small mahogany table. She turned it to her favorite station and moved back to the middle of the sitting room. Classical music drifted through the still air like a gentle breeze. It was times like this that reminded her of the old dusty books that she had read as a child when her father wasn't looking and her brother was terrorizing someone else. They had been full of pure-bloods that had everything. Fairy tales depicting magic that she could only dream of. They had been an escape to a fantasy where there was nothing she couldn't have. Then she would awake and all her happiness would shatter.

Then she had seen him for the first time. He had ridden by on his horse with his father. She knew that he was a muggle, and she knew the way her father would react if he found out. But she couldn't help herself, and as years passed her desire for him only grew.

With the years, Tom started to have lady friends and she became jealous. She wished her brother would jinx them and not the handsome boy. But her brother wouldn't humor her like that. After all, he was quick to realize her feelings, but it wasn't until several years later that he let her father know.

Oh, how she hated it. If only she could be prettier, like the girls in the story, then her prince would notice her. But the grime only made her features worse.

But now she had her fairy tale. That pretty muggle woman wouldn't have her happy ending, at least not with Tom. _"What was her name again?"_ Thinking, Merope's brows furrowed as she glanced over at Tom. He was reading some muggle book that she didn't have the patience for.

"Love?" she called, wanting his dark gaze on her. He lifted his head and smiled at her, a soft, dreamy look clouding his eyes.

There were times she would wish that he would look up with clarity and not that glazed look. He would blink and his gaze would clear except for his love for her.

"What was that girl's name? The one with the blonde hair and that was so pretty." Doubting that she was making much sense, she added, "The one that you would ride past my father's house with."

He frowned as if trying to remember something long past. "She wasn't as pretty as you," he murmured.

Merope ignored this, for as good as it was for those words to leave his lips she knew that they weren't true. She didn't know why it was so important. Perhaps if she knew that girl's name she could forget it along with the thought of Tom loving anyone else.

"Cecilia," Tom said softly as his gaze shifted to the wall behind her.

She reached forward and clasped his chin. "Did you love her?" she asked firmly.

"I love you."

"Did you love her?" she said with just the same amount of determination, wishing the answer to be what she wanted.

"We were going to get married." Tom said lifting his hand to catch hers and pressing his face into her palm. "But that was before you."

 _"Of course it was,"_ she thought as she gazed back at him. He had promised himself to another, but she had stolen him away from this Cecilia. She felt a mixture of emotion boil up with in her. Tom frowned as he gazed up at her. "You look different. Are you not feeling well?" he asked, standing up and pressing the back of his hand to her forehead.

"No," Merope said softly. It was true she had been feeling a bit under the weather. Granted, her health had always been a bit poor. She hadn't noticed though, paying more attention to the love potion.

She shook her head and leaned forward to kiss him. When the potion had been strong he had been the one to adore her. The kissing and tender touches had been natural. Now it was a bit awkward- his reaction dulled as if he were half asleep. He wrapped his arms around her and they swayed back and forth to the music. Her chest hurt as she realized that he hadn't answered her. _"Had he loved Cecilia? Could he love her after the potion's effects finally stopped working?"_ She couldn't answer her own questions that bounced around in her head. Merope didn't know Tom well enough to answer them.

Merope so desperately wanted to know him. But as long as the potion still held, she never would. She could only hope that as the potion's work slowed she would get to see pieces. In the end, perhaps she could stitch them all together and know him a bit better.

 _"Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose."_ That saying seemed to echo in her tired mind. Maybe there was something she could still do to the love potion that could bind him to her for just a little while longer.


End file.
